Always Midnight
by SometimeAfterMidnight
Summary: "We are afraid to care too much for the fear the other person might not care at all."  What would happen if Finn & Rachel moved to New York after graduation but didn't have their happily ever after?  Future-Finchel.  Multi-Chapter.
1. Chapter 1

See…I told you it wouldn't be long before I was back with something new and hey, this time we're multi-chapter! This is actually a re-working of an earlier fic I wrote for a slightly different pairing. However, the idea lent itself rather well to a Finchel fic so I did a little editing and here we are.

The song featured in this story (the bolded, italicized parts) are lyrics from the song 'Always Midnight' by Pat Monahan. I hope everyone enjoys and please leave a comment if you would like.

I obviously don't own anything…this is just for entertainment. 

_**Seems like it's always midnight…  
><strong>_

He watched silently as she fluttered around the apartment. She centered the lamp on the small table that sat next to the sofa and glanced up at the large clock that hung above it.

11:25.

She smiled curtly towards him, took the final swig from the beer bottle she clutched in her hand and eyed her coat, which had been haphazardly flung across one of the living room chairs.

"I should probably go," she suggested, moving towards the kitchen.

She brushed past him and entered the kitchen. She rinsed the bottle in the sink and placed it on the counter. She grabbed the tea towel from the handle on the refrigerator and dried her hands, humming lightly as she did so.

Watching her meander around the kitchen so naturally made something inside of him snap. Before he could think about what he was doing he'd stormed into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle and smashed it down on the counter. The glass shattered into a million pieces.

She jumped back at the sound, her mouth formed into a perfect, round 'O' of shock.

"Finn! What the hell are you doing?"

He didn't answer her. He reached down and started gathering the pieces of glass that were large enough to pick up. A piece of the debris sliced across his palm and he swore loudly, jumping up quickly to turn on the water in the sink. He sighed as the cool water soothed his injury and only then let himself turn his head to look at her.

Rachel stood motionless, frozen by his anger, her eyes filled tears.

"Why does it have to be like this?" He whispered. "Every time. Why?"

_**Sweeping up broken glass after every fight…  
><strong>_

College was over. They'd both made the transition to New York after high school and actually had lasted long enough to graduate. Rachel was on Broadway, well technically it was off-Broadway, but she never admitted that to anyone and no one at home knew any better anyway. Finn hadn't been as fortunate in the success department. He worked odd jobs and taught surf lessons at the beach, a passion he'd discovered after he'd realized just how close New York City was to the ocean. He had managed (somehow) to graduate with a degree in business but he didn't have any idea what he wanted to do with it. At the end of his sophomore year his advisor had told him he had to declare something and business seemed to be the most generic option. At the moment all Finn really cared about was being able to pay the rent and taking his and Rachel's relationship to the next level.

They had been in-love in high school…well, as close to love as Finn had ever been at least. When they moved to New York life had kind of gotten in the way. Rachel had attended NYU and taken her schooling very seriously. She initially insisted that her feelings had never changed but as she threw herself into her classes, lessons, and auditions Finn felt more and more like he had been put on the backburner. At one point they had gone over six months without seeing each other.

Over time he'd learned to almost forget about the feelings they'd once shared and he kind of let it go because he didn't want to jeopardize their friendship in any way. Somehow, in spite of everything else, they had managed to at least salvage that. He didn't know a lot of people in New York and having Rachel as a friend was better than not having her at all.

To Finn's delight, after Rachel had found a steady job they had fallen back into their once comfortable routine. When the stress of college was no longer an excuse she found time to be with him again. But it definitely wasn't the same. Finn didn't know if it ever would be. But just like before when he had abandoned his feelings for friendship, he then abandoned their friendship for intimacy, even if it was poor-man's version of it. Almost effortlessly they'd fallen into a whirlwind, no-strings-attached, completely physical relationship.

Their arrangement had worked out ok at first. No staying over, no commitment, no public displays of affection…just sex. But as the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months Finn felt his feelings shift from being purely carnal back to something more…something he wasn't ready to define or act on yet, but was curious to explore.

He'd waited and watched for any sign from Rachel that maybe she was feeling it again too, but that never happened. She would come over a few times a week, usually after one of her shows, and just be with him. Generally this meant he got an hour, maybe an hour and a half with her, because she was always sure to catch the midnight train which would take her back across town to her apartment…or onto whatever else her night held. Sometimes on her day off she would come over earlier and they would spend hours in bed or just together. For Finn, it was never enough.

"I don't want to fight with you," she said lightly, no emotion in her voice.

She moved across the kitchen, careful to avoid the shattered glass, and retrieved the dustpan and broom from the small hallway closet. She crouched down and silently began sweeping the glass onto the dustpan. After a moment she stood and moved towards the garbage can, opened the lid, and dumped the contents inside. She placed the dustpan on the counter and leaned the broom against the refrigerator before grabbing a paper towel and some all-purpose cleaner to wipe up any shards she might have missed.

"I had a rough night tonight. I screwed up the second scene in act one and completely flubbed the lyrics in the finale. I just need to get home." She threw the paper towel away and walked towards Finn. She shut the water in the sink off and reached for his hand. "Let me see."

He let her hold his injured hand in both of her much smaller ones and felt a weird lurch in his core as she ran her index finger over the cut.

"It's not that bad…it looks worse than it actually is. A lot of blood for just a little scrape." Rachel grabbed another paper towel and blotted it against his palm. "Think you still feel up to walking me to the subway station or are you feeling a little light-headed from all the blood loss?"

He could tell she was trying to lighten the situation and he knew he wasn't going to accomplish anything with her tonight so he gave up. "Sure. I'll still walk you."

_**With the sound of a train that I could've been on  
><strong>__**Reminding me that the last one's gone**_

Ten minutes later he had a Snoopy band-aid on his cut and they were walking leisurely towards the Brighton Beach subway station. The midnight train was the last one of the night and even though he hated that she took the fifty minute ride by herself she insisted she enjoyed it and that the silence gave her time to think.

"You know…I wouldn't have to leave so early if you actually lived in Manhattan. Why did you decide to live _so_ far out in Brooklyn?"

"Because I like the beach and because it keeps me away from you," he responded, half joking, half serious. Finn nudged her with his elbow and sighed when he felt her take his hand and entwine their fingers.

These were the best and worst moments of his time with Rachel. He loved walking the dark sidewalks with her. Sometimes when they stood on the deserted subway platform waiting for the last train, he would pretend they were something more than a relationship of convenience. But that fantasy was always destroyed when the train would blow its whistle and pull into the station. He hated that she always left and he hated even more that he never had the strength to follow her or convince her to stay.

They climbed the steps to the platform slowly. As they neared the top of the stairs, they both noticed the station was empty, which wasn't abnormal. When Rachel's foot reached the top step she stopped moving and turned around so she was facing Finn. Due to her two step lead she was now slightly taller than him and she stretched her arms around him, pulling his body against hers. His face rested against her neck and she turned her head towards him until her cheek was flush with his.

They didn't move, just stood there, breathing each other in until the low thunder in the distance indicated the approaching train.

"Time to go," she whispered, pulling away from his hold. She pressed her lips quickly against his and walked towards the turnstiles. She slid her Metro Card through the reader to pay her fare and walked onto the platform as the train rumbled into the station.

He stared after her longingly. The doors on the silver train opened and she glanced back at him and gave a slight wave before disappearing into the vehicle. The doors closed behind her and the subway disappeared into the night, the roar slowly replaced by silence.

_**With you,It's always midnight.**_

He shuffled back down the steps and into the darkness. The sounds of Brooklyn at midnight fell on deaf ears as he hurried along the sidewalks back to his apartment. Somehow the abandoned pavement didn't hold the same allure without her.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Are you blind?  
>Can't you see me standing here waiting in line<br>For you.  
><strong>_

The next Friday Rachel had invited Finn to a cast outing at a bar near Columbus Circle after her show. He'd jumped at the opportunity because he rarely saw her other than the times she would take the subway out to his apartment or the even rarer times he would take the subway to hers.

He'd seen her show more times than she realized but he'd accepted her offer for a ticket graciously and sat anonymously in the audience, proudly watching her in her element. He had twisted the playbill in his hands and mouthed the words along with her as she sang. He was ridiculously impressed by her, which was really nothing new. He stood with the rest of the audience when she gave her curtain call and smiled when she locked her eyes on his and tugged on her earlobe, the secret sign of affection that they had used since her first performances at NYU.

As the red velvet curtain closed across the stage he followed the stream of people into the lobby. Finn quickly made his way onto the busy street and hailed the first taxi he saw. He gave the address of the bar to the cabbie and leaned back in his seat for the short drive. When they arrived he thanked and paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk, studying his destination.

Bamboo 52.

He walked inside and sat down at the bar, which was moderately crowded. The bartender noticed him immediately and came to take his order. He ordered a bowl of miso soup (Rachel's influence, obviously) and a coke and he waited.

Two hours later he was still waiting.

Finally, at 2:15am, the doors swung open and Rachel's strong laughter hit his ear. She stumbled into the bar, her arm linked with one of her co-stars whose name he couldn't remember, singing a rather rousing rendition of '99 Bottles of Beer'.

"I need one of those!" She announced, throwing her arms into the air.

She slammed her hands down onto the bar and shouted out her order. When the aforementioned beer was delivered she chugged it greedily. Only then did she notice him.

"Finn?" She squeaked, letting out a small burp and dissolving into giggles. "What are you doing here?"

He glared at her. "You invited me."

"I did?" She sobered slightly under his angry stare. "Oh shit, I did. Oh Finn I'm so, _so_ sorry. I was backstage getting changed after the show and Riley suggested that we stop by Vintage real quick so we did. They have the _best_ martinis." She smiled at him and reached out to run a finger against his denim covered thigh. "I don't even remember saying anything about this place. Isn't that weird?"

Still keeping his face solemn, Finn reached into his jacket and produced the paper Rachel had given to him the night prior. It had Bamboo 52 and the address written in her neat penmanship.

"Whoops."

Without saying a word Finn pulled his wallet out and threw a few bills onto the bar. He shook his head slightly at her and stood up, brushing past her and her friends.

"Finn!" She called after him. "Finn!"

_**Are you mine?  
>Not just when you wanna be, all of the time?<br>Are you?  
><strong>_

He stopped and turned to watch her hurrying down the hallway towards him. She reached for his arm and pulled him into a smaller, dimly lit passage which he assumed lead to the bathrooms or some sort of storage. When they were convincingly hid in the shadows Rachel pushed him against the wall and covered his mouth with hers. Even though Finn tried, when she groaned and wrapped her arms around his waist, rubbing her body suggestively against his, he thought 'screw it' and gave into her. She snaked her hands underneath his jacket and dress shirt and sighed as her hands met his skin. His hand rose to the back of her head, forcing her mouth tighter against his and he prayed that he would never need oxygen ever again.

Of course that wasn't the case.

They broke apart, breathing huskily, and Rachel looked over her shoulder towards the laughter trickling out from the bar.

Finn reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Go," he whispered.

She stuck her lips out in a pout and leaned against his chest. "Only if you come with me."

He sighed and traced his fingers over the length over her back. He wasn't going back into the bar. He didn't want to. He didn't fit in with Rachel's professional world at all. Lima, Ohio Rachel and New York City Rachel were two completely different people. Well, maybe they weren't that different but the circumstances surrounding them were as different as night and day. He never really missed high school except for the fact that it had made it much easier to be with Rachel.

Maybe he missed it more than he thought.

She glanced between the hallway that lead back to the bar and his face, her hands still firmly planted against his skin.

"Come on, the guys are great and I promise to show you how I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue!" She grinned and leaned in to rake her tongue and teeth against his neck.

Finn groaned and pushed on her shoulders, desperate to get some distance between them. Five minutes ago when she'd walked into the bar she'd forgotten all about him. She'd completely forgotten that they'd made any type of plans. All that had mattered to her was her job and being with her friends and he couldn't fault her for that, but he refused to stand by and wait until she decided she wanted him. Their part-time, only-when-convenient agreement wasn't working for him anymore.

He wanted her all of the time. He wanted her to come home to _him_.

And right now they were no where near that.

_**Are you blind?  
>Don't you see me standing here<br>Won't you tell me what it is  
>I'm waiting to find…<br>**_

Why couldn't he just walk away? Why couldn't he live his life without her? Why couldn't she just _realize_?

"I, um, have a really early day tomorrow. I'm going to take a taxi home but it's still going to be well after 3 by the time I get back out to Brighton. It's a good thing I set my alarm before I left for the show tonight because 6am is sure going to come early."

He was rambling…he was well aware of that…but he needed something, anything to get him out of there.

"What are you doing so early on a Saturday?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Um…surf lesson."

"It's November."

Shit.

"I….uh…have a wetsuit. It will…um…keep you warm even when the water is as cold as it is now."

Rachel looked at him, confused, her hands still fanned against his back. "What are you taking a lesson for? You know how to surf. You taught me, remember?"

Shit. Again.

"I…um…am actually teaching the lesson. Some twelve year old kid from Manhattan Beach."

_Give me a reason to stay_, he thought.

"Ok then." She removed her hands from him and straightened his shirt, followed by her own. "Well, thanks for coming out. I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner. Next time we plan something you'll have to text me and remind me. My mind is usually a blur after the show."

Excuses. Nothing but excuses. All he wanted was for her to tell him something real…something that mattered…but again, that didn't happen.

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek and hurried back towards the bar.

All he could do was watch her go.

He stood, motionless for a moment, before he shoved his hands into his pockets and headed towards the door. He glanced over his shoulder to see Rachel rejoining her friends. She threw her arm around one of the guys (Rodney? Ryan?) and retrieved her beer enthusiastically, raising it to her lips and tipping it back.

He was forgotten.

This was just how things were. He was going to have to get it through his thick skull if there was ever any chance of him having a life that didn't somehow involve her.

He walked out into the chilly November air and hailed a cab. He rattled his address off and climbed into the back seat.

What was he waiting for?


	3. Chapter 3

_**You're right,  
><strong>**I must be crazy…  
><strong>_

Two weeks later Finn was on the way back to his apartment after walking Rachel to the subway again. He stepped inside the dimly lit room and could still smell the faint trace of her perfume.

Their night had been perfect. It was her day off and she had come over in the early evening. She had jumped on him as soon as he opened the door and they had spent three blissful hours tangled in each other. They were just coming down from their high after ravishing each other for the second time when it had happened.

_God, I love you, Rachel._

The words had slipped out of him before he'd even realized what he was saying. He couldn't even remember the last time he had said those words aloud to her. Rachel's eyes had grown wide and she'd immediately retreated from the bed and had taken up residence in the bathroom for what seemed like forever.

She returned twenty minutes later and began pulling on her clothes, announcing that time had slipped away from her. She said she really had to go back to the city because she had an early meeting with her director the next morning. He just laid there and watched her gather up her things from his room, afraid to open his mouth again. He didn't know what other nonsense would filtrate from him.

When she insisted that he walk her to the subway he'd agreed. Their walk had been done predominantly in silence but she'd kissed him goodbye and waved like always as she boarded the train.

The walk home had given him a lot of time to think. Sure, he regretted the way his declaration had occurred, but he didn't regret the words at all. He'd been _feeling_ again for what felt like forever and he'd been thinking of some way to tell her without completely freaking her out but that hadn't happened. The words had just exploded out of him and he couldn't take them back now. He didn't want to.

He had just reached his building when he was distracted from his thoughts by the vibrating in his pocket.

He pulled his phone from his jeans and was greeted with Rachel's name and an incoming call. He tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Are you ok?"

All he heard was breathing.

"Rachel? Are you there?"

He was instantly worried. The subway was filled with random freaks and pedophiles during business hours; he could only imagine the people who took up residence on the train after midnight. He instantly thought the worst and turned on his heels, prepared to do whatever it took to make sure she was ok…that she was safe.

"Are you crazy?"

At her question he froze. He retreated into his building and began to climb the stairs to his apartment.

"What?"

"Are you crazy, Finn? You can't just blurt out that you love me like it's the simplest thing in the world. I thought we'd agreed to do the whole no-strings thing. You know with my job and all I have going on that I can't commit to a relationship right now. Were you just caught up in the moment or what?"

He opened the door to his apartment and then shut it quickly. He sank into one of his chairs, threw his head back against it, and sighed.

"I don't know, Rachel. I don't know what came over me. I just…I don't know."

_Pussy_.

"Don't say things like that to me, ok?"

The line went dead and Finn pulled the phone away from ear, staring down at the visual evidence that their conversation was over.

_**You're out getting high,  
><strong>__**I'm here pretending I'm in love. **_

She was out there, living her life like she'd always planned and he was marooned in his apartment like a pathetic son of a bitch.

It was nothing but a farce. For years he'd waited…loving her and waiting for everything to go back to normal, the way it was supposed to be. He still hung onto the slight chance that maybe, just maybe, she'd feel something more for him again.

He had a very good feeling that he was going to be waiting forever.

The sound of light tapping on his door brought him back to his senses. For a minute he wondered who it could be. His building had a heavy lock on the main door and he doubted any of his neighbors would be bothering him for a cup of sugar at the late hour. There was only one person who could charm their way past an unsuspecting tenant and come upstairs unannounced.

Rachel.

Finn jumped to his feet and hurried to the door. He swung it open to find her standing there, tears streaming down her face, her cell phone clutched in her hand.

"Rachel? What are you doing her…."

Before he could even finish his sentence she had vaulted herself into his arms and attached her mouth to his. He mumbled something incoherent against her lips and shut the door behind her, silently inviting her back into his apartment.

He ripped his mouth away from hers and whispered against her ear. "What are you doing here?"

"I got off at the next stop and came back." Her eyes traveled between his eyes and his lips. "I'm still not sure why."

He kissed her wordlessly, desperately, and began moving them back towards his bedroom, knowing the sheets were already mussed from their preceding lovemaking.

_**The sound of your heart,  
>my head on your chest,<br>Dropped your hands to your sides and gave up.**_

Thirty minutes later they laid silently in his bed. Finn had Rachel's much smaller body pulled flush against his, his head rested against her naked chest. She lightly scraped her short, manicured nails against his bare arms and he listened as her heart pounded against his ear.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He propped himself up on his elbow and stared at her. Her dark hair was a stark contrast against his white sheets and her lips were still swollen from his kisses. The expression on her face was one of content and confusion and he tried to focus on the former, rather than the latter.

"You can ask me anything."

Her hands slid up his arms until she reached his face. She slid her fingers along his eyebrows, down his cheeks and across his lips.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

Finn felt his heart twist. In the countless months they'd been doing _this_ never once had she stayed. He'd thought the absolute worst after his random re-declaration of love but instead she'd returned to his bed…to him…and she didn't want to leave.

He pressed his lips lightly against hers. "You don't ever have to ask that question. Of course…yes."

She grinned up at him and pulled him down to her again. She snuggled her back against his chest and reached for his arm, draping it over her hip. She laced her fingers with his and just breathed.

"Just hold me tonight…ok?"

_**I'd rather be crazy than right  
>Tonight.<strong>_

He stared down at her motionless form and leaned in to press gentle kisses along the back of her shoulder and down the back of her arm. He settled himself against her and pressed his nose against her hair.

This was his heaven…even if it was only for one night.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Are you blind?  
><strong>__**Can't you see me standing here waiting in line?  
>For you.<strong>_

It was later than usual. The clock above the sofa indicated that it was a quarter after ten. She was always there by now. Her tardiness only meant one thing. She wasn't coming.

Finn raised the bottle of beer to his lips and took a long, hard pull. He wasn't usually a drinker, hell he only had the stuff in his apartment because Rachel liked it, but tonight he craved it. Maybe it was because of the alcohol….maybe it was because of her.

In the week since his proclamation of love, things with him and Rachel seemed to be progressing, even if it was only slightly. Any progress was a good thing in his book.

She had asked to stay twice now and Finn loved it. There was nothing more breathtaking than waking up next to Rachel Berry. Half of the time he didn't think he went to bed at all because he was so content just watching her. The way her chest rose and fell as she breathed, how she made weird little noises and scrunched her nose up while she dreamed, how she would subconsciously reach for him as she slept…it all fascinated Finn.

But now three days had passed since he'd last seen her, which was the longest he'd been separated from her since they started their "relationship" back up after graduation. Even though she was busy with her shows, appearances and performances she had still always made time for him. Granted it was usually for such a short amount of time that it shouldn't even count, but he looked forward to those precious moments and always tried to make the most of them.

And now he was going crazy without her. She was his drug and not being able to satisfy that addiction was slowly driving him mad.

Two nights ago she had called him during intermission and excitedly told him how the guy who hosted Dateline (it was really a production assistant who _worked _for the guy who hosted Dateline) had called to see if he could interview her after her show. She said they were planning on doing an entire segment about how there was a new generation of "no names" taking Broadway by storm and they wanted to feature her (amongst other) in the story. Finn had practically heard the smile on her face as she rattled off the details of the conversation. She informed him that she obviously wouldn't make it out to Brooklyn that night but that she would miss him and make it up to him. He hadn't thought much of it because she sounded _so_ happy and knowing she was happy made him happy.

Last night she'd called on her way out of the theater to say that her dad's had surprised her by coming into town for the show and insisted on taking her out for Dim Sum at Yakitori Totto, which was one of her favorite places. She'd invited him to come and meet-up with them, announcing that her parents would love to see him again, but he'd declined. It was hard enough controlling his feelings around Rachel…he knew there was no way he'd be able to continue the charade in front of her parents.

But today there were no excuses, no distractions. It was Tuesday, which meant the show was dark, and she'd promised to stop at her favorite Italian grocery store on her way out to Brighton Beach and pick up the ingredients for a meal she swore would make his toes curl. He'd accepted, hoping he hadn't sounded too eager, and set the table with the mismatched dishes he kept in his cupboards. He'd even gone out (to Duane Reade) and bought two elaborate (by drugstore standards), blood-red candles to accent the table.

Finn looked back at the clock as the seconds continued to tick away. The beer bottle in his hand was now empty. He stood, blew out the candles (which had melted away into nothing), and headed towards the kitchen to uncharacteristically continue to drown his sorrows.

_**Are you mine?  
>Not just when you wanna be, all of the time?<br>Are you?**_

One beer turned to three…which turned into six…which turned into a number so high that he'd lost count. He lay slumped on the floor, his back resting against the couch, not sure how he felt anymore. The room was spinning counterclockwise and he definitely didn't feel sad…things actually seemed rather…well, funny.

He rolled onto his side and pushed himself up on his hands and knees. He crawled across the carpet towards the stand that held his television and bumped his head right into the base, making the flat screen wobble tentatively.

"Shh! Shh!" He said to the TV, laughing as he laid down on the carpet.

With his head on the ground he reached his arm out and fumbled around one of the seemingly empty shelves. He patted the dark wood aimlessly and stuck his arm so far back on the shelf that his skin disappeared up to his elbow. When his fingertips finally grazed the thin book he grasped it and pulled his arm back out.

He rolled onto his back and held the book in front of his face, trying to focus on it. It was a flimsy, spiral-bound notebook that had a well-worn cover and frayed edges. He opened it and was greeted by a stick-figure drawing that Rachel had made their first day of senior year. Usually he wasn't fond of her unconventional ways of showing affection, but after everything they had been through the prior year he'd decided to just roll with it.

There was a small figure with a skirt and long hair and a much, much larger figure with pants and a shirt. Under the small drawing she'd written her name and under the large one she'd written his. Under their names was a scribbled conversation…probably because they'd passed it back and forth as their paths crossed in the hallway…but he couldn't remember the details.

Finn leafed through the pages, the memories of the best time of his life flooding his hazy mind. When they were in high school one of them always had the notebook and they never returned it to the other person without leaving some sort of message. Most of their notes were flirtations or inside jokes or plans for a later date. Occasionally there was another stick-figure drawing (Rachel was a terrible artist…he wasn't much better) or some other random blurb, but more than anything it was their memoir.

Finn sucked in a deep breath, reminded more than ever just how alone he was. Feeling the emotion rise in his throat he sat up and began ripping the pages from the notebook. He pulled their memories from their binding and shredded the paper in his hands.

Soon he was left with only confetti.

A deep sob convulsed through his core and he curled up in a fetal position on the ground, still clutching the remnants of the notebook. He didn't want to remember the good times anymore.

He couldn't keep relying on the past to get him through the present.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Are you blind?  
><strong>__**Don't you see me standing here  
>Won't you tell me what it is<br>I'm waiting to find…**_

He didn't know what time he passed out.

When he woke up he was ridiculously nauseous and he was sure he was experiencing the worst headache of his life. He managed to raise his head slightly to survey the living room, certain he would be greeted by some sort of mass destruction from the night before.

The room was spotless.

He laid there for a moment, trying to piece together what little he could remember. He knew there'd been alcohol involved…lots of it…and he couldn't understand why he couldn't find any empty bottles or even any trace of them. He sat up quickly, forgetting about his headache, but remembering how he had destroyed his and Rachel's notebook.

There wasn't a single scrap of paper on the carpet.

Now he was confused.

He managed to get himself to his feet and stumbled towards the kitchen. The pain in his head was excruciating but he tried to ignore it, desperate for a glass of water and some Advil. When he stepped into the kitchen he saw the first evidence of what he'd done the night prior.

Lined up on the counter, in perfect rows of four, were 16 empty beer bottles. He supposed it wasn't a large amount of alcohol for someone of his size to consume but considering that he almost never drank (and he never had dinner like he'd planned) his hangover seemed justified.

The remnants of the notebook were spread across the worn Formica of the counter top, most of it illegible and beyond repair. Finn felt tears form in his eyes, which he brushed away quickly. Now that his anger had faded he wished he could rewind time and put the notebook back together. Sure, he had been irrevocably angry and defeated but he regretted destroying one of his and Rachel's most precious memories.

He studied the scraps of the paper on the counter and tried to make sense out of something. After considerable searching he was able to make out two words that had been placed away from the rest of the scraps.

Rachel. Finn.

Fuck. She'd been there.

He scrambled around the kitchen, desperate for any other sign of her presence when he saw the note stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet.

It was short and to the point.

_I deserved this. - R._

* * *

><p>He didn't speak to her for the next week.<p>

He spent his days like he usually did. He slept a lot, worked odd shifts in the coffee shop where everyone spoke Russian, and spent his evenings sitting in one of the small local cafes, writing. He found that it helped to get his thoughts down on paper. Even if he never shared them with another human being at least they were out.

_**A way to get back to you,  
>A way to get out of here,<br>I don't want to be alone  
>At midnight anymore.<strong>_

He knew he had to talk to her. He had to see her. But he was wise enough to know that neither one of those things were going to be easy. Rachel had witnessed first hand the toll their arrangement had taken on him. He didn't know what was going to come of their relationship or even their friendship, but he knew it had all been necessary. She knew he still loved her and obviously that he wanted her. He also assumed she knew that their continued casualness was over.

_**How do I get away  
>Wanna see you in the daylight<br>I don't wanna be afraid of  
>Midnight anymore.<strong>_

It was Wednesday and she had a show that night. Without letting himself think anymore he grabbed his coat, keys and phone and bolted out the door of the cafe. He didn't even have to talk to her but he knew that if he just saw her that maybe he'd get some sort of answer. He needed to know if she was even affected by what had happened…even if it was in the slightest of ways. Rachel wore her heart on her sleeve and if she felt something, anything, he would know it.

He climbed the familiar steps of the Brighton Beach subway platform and waited for the train. The fifty minute ride felt more like fifty hours and when he arrived in Herald Square he raced out of the station and up the stairs onto the busy street. He ran the few blocks to the theater and paid his admission at the box office. Luckily, maybe due to the day of the week, he was able to get a seat right up front.

He entered the familiar lobby and retrieved his playbill. He found his seat and waited for the show to begin.

What he was greeted with scared him.

To say the person performing was a shell of Rachel would have been too kind.

Her eyes were dull and although her voice was rich and powerful it was raspy on the edges and filled with sadness. He was sure it wasn't detectable to most of the crowd but to him it was like watching a siren go off.

When they arrived at the climatic scene at the end of the show that involved Rachel passionately kissing the guy Finn had met at the bar a few weeks back (Ryder? Robert?) he waited. Even though he was well aware the kiss was nothing more than that, Rachel always sold it. She was usually into it 100% and it wasn't uncommon to hear a collective sigh from the audience at the sight of the two leads finally consummating their love affair.

On this particular night it was more like watching his mother kiss his grandfather.

There was _nothing_ there.

If the woman sitting next time was any indication, the average theater-goer didn't know any different. The woman grabbed onto Finn's arm and dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex, announcing that this was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

When the show ended Finn stood along with everyone else and applauded for Rachel. When she came out to take her solo bow he stuck his fingers into his mouth and let out a loud whistle. Her head turned sharply and she looked at him. The theater was filled with thunderous applause but he didn't hear any of it. He smiled weakly at her and reached up to tug on his earlobe.

He watched her stand there emotionless, just staring back at him. As the heavy curtain began its decent across the stage she slowly reached her hand up…

And pulled on her earlobe.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I wanted to thank everyone who has marked this fic as a favorite, added to alerts, or left a comment. I'm still pretty new to the Glee fan fiction world and your support has meant the world to me. I really appreciate everything and it has kept me constantly encouraged and inspired. Thank you again from the bottom of my heart.

* * *

><p><em><strong>With the sound of a train<br>That I should have been on  
>reminding me that the last one's gone.<br>With you,  
>There's always midnight…<strong>_

He didn't wait for her after the show.

Finn was prepared to take the train back out to Brooklyn immediately but he decided to stroll around Hell's Kitchen to clear his head first. He took in the sights and sounds and for once didn't let himself draw conclusions from the slight interaction he'd had with Rachel.

After he'd walked in circles for what seemed like hours he headed back towards the subway and boarded the B Train, which would take him home.

The ride back to Brighton Beach wasn't nearly as tumultuous as the ride into Manhattan had been. He didn't know what was going to come of him and Rachel and their relationship but there had at least been a flicker that not all hope was lost.

When his train roared into the station he glanced down at his watch. It was 11:55. Usually when he was in the station as that time it was to say goodbye to Rachel. It felt weird being on the arriving train rather than waiting for the departing one.

He stepped onto the platform and paid his fare and watched as the subway disappeared out of the station. He moved towards the descending stairs but stopped before he went to take the first step. He glanced across the tracks to the outbound platform and that was when he saw her.

Rachel stood on the concrete, her hair around her shoulders, staring straight at him.

He was frozen.

He tried to put the pieces together.

Of course. She was waiting for the midnight train like she always did.

She had taken the first train out after the show to see him…but he hadn't been there waiting for her.

_**Are you blind?  
>Can't you see me standing here waiting in line?<br>For you.**_

It happened like it does in the movies.

He took off down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him. When he reached the bottom he ran across the street to the steps that lead upward to where Rachel waited. He was only partway up the stairs when he could make out her figure standing at the top. He stopped on one of the landings and waited.

_**Are you mine?  
>Not just when you wanna be all of the time?<br>Are you?**_

She ran down the stairs as quickly as she could, dropping her purse in the process, and launched herself into his arms.

He could feel the dampness of her tears against his neck as he held her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him, not being able to get close enough.

"God. Finn, I am _so_ sorry."

He felt his own tears spill over and he turned his head towards her neck, pressing the dampness against her skin.

"I love you."

_**Are you blind?  
>Don't you see me standing here<br>Won't you tell me what it is  
>I'm waiting to find…<strong>_

The words were whispered, but he'd heard them.

It was like his soul was singing. Suddenly he couldn't get enough air even though they were outside in the middle of winter. His breath made warm puffs in the air as he smoothed her hair away from her face and leaned in towards her, rubbing his nose against hers.

"It shouldn't have come to this?" He breathed.

She sniffled and laughed. "Since when do you and I play by the rules?"

For the first time in what felt like forever he let out a real, pure laugh. She unwound her legs from his waist and he bent over gently until her feet touched the ground. He reached up to cup her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. The fire that he missed, the sparkle that he craved…they were back.

He pressed his lips to hers hungrily. Tongues met and hands grasped, pulling them even closer to each other. They only broke apart when the rumbling above them announced the impending arrival of the train.

Rachel's train.

Finn looked at her curiously. If she hurried up the stairs she could still make it.

"The train…" He started.

Rachel raised her fingertips to his lips and left them there as the train pulled into the station. They both looked up at the flash of silver as it pulled into the station and then hurried on its way. There was no need for it to stop if no one was waiting for it.

She stood, gently touching his mouth, until it was silent again.

"Can I stay?"

_Stupid question._

She walked up a few stairs to retrieve her purse and when she walked back toward him his hand was outstretched, waiting for her. They walked down the stairs and disappeared into the streets of Brooklyn…where they intended to spend their midnight.

_**With you,  
>It's always midnight.<strong>_


End file.
